The Storyteller
by That Girl55
Summary: "One thing's for sure, she's not Wendy." A oneshot.


She wasn't Wendy, that was for sure.

Hook had returned to Number 14 one day when he was feeling especially vicious with plans to kidnap the one and only Wendy Darling. He would drag up things that were long forgotten, emotions he knew Pan never wanted to feel again. Instead, he found Wendy an old woman in her rocker, and a new child in the bed where she once slept.

This child's name was Eveline, and she went by Evie.

She was fifteen years old, and full of spunk and childish pride that had yet to fade. She hated being tied up, he noted, as she wiggled and slithered around underneath the ropes.

Later on, he'd find her in his cabin, awaiting his return. The crew had yet to notice that she had broken out of the ropes, even.

She proved her loyalty to him one night, when she passed him his sword during a fierce battle against Pan, and he hadn't tied her up since. No longer did he need to keep her under lock and key anyways, for she was no longer a Darling, but a pirate.

Evie learned their ways quickly, and somehow her feminine ways and hard work blended in perfectly with the rest of the crew's slobber and sloth. And, before he knew it, Hook was taking a liking to this descendant of Wendy's.

* * *

He caught her staring at him one day, when she was supposed to be working.

"You," He said, walking up to her and catching her under the chin with his hook. The look they exchanged was undeniably passionate, and the rest of the crew looked away respectfully. "Why do you think you're so special, Miss Darling?"

She looked at him without fear, her eyes narrowing.

"I am no Darling Girl, that you should know. If you think it proper to call me that again, you might as well stab your hook right up my jaw and save me the embarrassment."

The crew turned to look now, intrigued by this girl's bravery. They wanted to see her dead, wanted proof that their captain had not grown soft by a woman's touch.

Slowly, without fail or fault, he drew his hook away from the girl and retreated to his quarters. Evie did not shame him, at least, she didn't call him a coward in front of his crew. If he had, a mutiny would have likely been at hand. Still, Hook made sure to never refer to Evie as a Darling again.

"What do you want you name to be then, girl?" He overheard one of his crew members ask her, once he had left.

"Evie," She said quietly. "Just Evie, nothing more."

"You have to have a last name!" Another crew member shouted.

"Why, if you all don't? Why are the rules different for me?" She said, her voice growing angry. She did not want to be an exception in Hook's crew, she wanted to be treated like the rest of them...unless, of course, Hook favored her. Unless he took to her in the way that men do take to women sometimes, and wanted to claim her as something other than a serving girl who also mopped floors for a living.

"Because you're a girl." They taunted, and she winced.

Hook emerged from his cabin, throwing the door open and ignoring its banging. He stormed over to the pirate who had said that to Evie, his dear, proud Evie, and put his hook right through his shirt, picking him up off the ground.

"She is a serving girl, she is one of you and she will be treated that way, do you understand?" Hook's eyes glowed red in the moonlight, as the deck went silent.

He deliberated killing the crew member, but that brought the chance of mutiny once again. Why had he killed this mate, who had been with him for so many years, and let the new girl live? That was a question not even Hook himself knew the answer to. And so, he dropped the man back on the ground with a heavy _thud_ and stormed off towards his cabin once more.

"Evie!" He yelled, his voice no longer kind nor polite. "I expect dinner in my private quarters tonight, six o'clock sharp."

"Yes Capt'n." She said, straightening her back a little in an effort to show him respect.

The rest of the crew eyed her warily, wondering what she had done to bewitch their captain.

* * *

Dinner was five minutes early, Hook noted, but he didn't say anything. The girl obviously had a sharp tongue, and he didn't want to toy with her tonight.

Evie stayed and watched him take the first few bites of everything, like she always did, to make sure it was alright.

"Very good, thank you Evie." He said, like he did every night. Except, this time he called her 'Evie' instead of 'girl.' Maybe it was the outburst she had made earlier today, or maybe he was growing used to her.

"I'm glad you like it, I'm not much in the kitchen." She admitted before nodding at him, and making her way towards the door.

"Sit down for a minute, Evie." She obliged, sitting across from him. "Closer." He said, nodding towards the chair on his right. She bit her lip as she took her new seat. "Tell me, Evie, why did you cook the food tonight? Was Cook giving you a hard time?"

"Sir, uhm," She stuttered-Hook had never seen her stutter before. "You, er, got rid of Cook a few nights ago."

"Oh, right! I've forgotten already!" He laughed, throwing his arms up in the air. He remembered now, how the man had objected to having to cook meals when they had a girl crew member now. He complained to Hook personally about it, after hours, and he had plunged his sharp hook right into the man's belly, and thrown him overboard while the others were sleeping.

When they asked about it, Hook said he had left them; that he had gone over night to some place else and no longer desired to be a part of the crew. It was only Evie who knew the truth, mainly because it was her he brought in to clean up the blood that coated his wooden floors. She was the only one he could trust now, even Smee became wary of his actions. He seemed to be so unpredictable since Evie came aboard.

"I'm terribly sorry my crew is giving you such a hard time, Miss Evie, but, as you can see, they aren't quite used to having a woman of class around."

"I'm no woman of class, Captain, I'm just one of your crew members, like the rest of them. Only, I'm a girl."

"No, you're a woman." Hook said, looking her in the eyes and kissing her hand. "Which makes all the difference, love. Now, I've been debating this for a very long time, being as your grandmother was not suited for the job at all, however you prove to be different. Evie, you can only cook one meal and you're terrible at following orders-how would you like to be my storyteller?"

"Your _what?" _She asked, so interested in the proposition she had forgotten to address his thoughts on her cooking skills.

"A storyteller, Evie, is a very important job." Hook continued, getting up and placing his hands on the back of her chair, feeling dominate. "You'd be upgraded to staying in my cabin, and you'd be allowed separation from the crew at most times. You'd be like a guest of honor, love, and there's only one catch: every night, before I send the crew off to bed, you must tell us all one story."

"A story...like a fairytale?"She questioned. "Like the ones Grandma Wendy used to tell us, about you."

"Yes," Hook smiled, not at all surprised that Wendy was telling her grandchildren stories of Neverland, of Peter Pan and him. She would shiver to think of where Evie was now, partners with the infamous Captain Hook.

"When shall I start?" She asked eagerly, looking up at him.

"Tonight, my darling." He said, sticking his head out the cabin door. "Boys, gather round! We have a new storyteller!"

* * *

Her stories were filled with pirates, because they were always her favorite. There was always a brave captain (who usually had a dark side), a rowdy bunch of crew members (that were occasionally sexist), and an average young girl, pulled into a story by creatures well above her power (who was always sassy).

Unlike Wendy's stories, Evie's had no 'happily ever after's. Evie's stories ended with bloodshed, with a duel between two great forces which ended in tragedy for both. The pirates always won, but they did not win without a loss.

Only Hook saw the message behind her stories, but the meaning he found was not revealed in her battles. The normal girl, the one who was brought onto the ship against her will, always loved the captain, and the captain never loved her back. It only seemed to continue with Evie's theme of nonexistent happily ever afters.

Until one day, there was an unidentifiable jump in her step, and her eyes seemed a little brighter. She was kinder to everyone, and her cheeks turned a rosy red color, sun or no sun.

"What's wrong with Evie, Smee?" One of the crew members asked. "She looks...different."

"I don't know, but ever since Captain moved her into his quarters and made her storyteller, they both seem a lot happier."

It was true, even the dreaded Captain Hook had stopped killing off so many of his own. Some said it was because they no longer picked on Evie, and others said she had done something to him-put a spell on him, like a witch would.

And that night, Evie's story ended with total bloodshed on the side of the pirates-for once, they had lost. As for the painfully average serving girl, she no longer was in love with the captain, but instead a third party, one not mentioned.

Hook was in love with Evie, and Evie had found something much more interesting that caught her eye-Peter Pan was bringing in new Lost Boys, and Evie couldn't keep herself from catching the eye of a certain one, not much older than her.

* * *

A year later (but who knows in Neverland, really) Evie found herself laying on a bed of leaves, in a small little home under the ground, filled with boys her age and younger-but all under eighteen.

"Evie," Peter said to her one night, before she was going to meet Chase for a midnight swim. "Before you go, will you tell us a story?"

"A story?" She asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Wendy was just so good at them, so we thought..."

"Of course, I'll tell you a story!" She smiled. "Just as soon as I get back from swimming, okay?"

The boys nodded, and she walked out the door.

"Lost Boys, can you hear me? We have a new storyteller!"


End file.
